


Under Mountains and Beneath Stars

by Meztli



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Romance, Non-Explicit Sex, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meztli/pseuds/Meztli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a dispute with Thorin that leads to his exile, Kili embarks on yet another journey across Middle-Earth, this time alongside the once-sheltered elf Tauriel, to seek a place they may belong in.</p><p>Having no set course but to visit his mother Dis in Ered Luin, where they hope to gain her approval in their union, Kili and Tauriel venture where they dare, at times to places of great beauty and other times to sites of peril and decay. In their travels they will encounter orcs, a pretty harpist Kili once misgendered, Mr. Boggins, unhasty Ents, more orcs, and friends in the most unlikeliest of people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moonraykir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonraykir/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salutations. I've noticed a lack of Kiliel fanfictions where everybody survived and decided to remedy my itch for more by writing my own story. Because I'm still in denial that three of our favorite dwarves are dead. 
> 
> I have to thank Moonraykir for not only being my Beta for this first chapter, but also in inspiring me to write after reading her wonderful work titled "So Comes Snow After Fire." If you have not read it yet, do eet! It's fantastic, and it's KilixTauriel in case you're wondering.
> 
> The rating may change to M depending on how graphic I get, but I promise to keep the ahem, sex scenes as classy and romantic as possible.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Within a private chamber of Erebor, the angry voice of Thorin Oakenshield echoed off marbled walls.

“I will not allow the Durin bloodline to be grafted to that of an elf.”

Kili, second heir and youngest nephew, had admitted an elf into the halls of Erebor, and evidently had allowed her to slip and wreak havoc into his senses as well. The boy and the she-elf had come asking for Thorin’s blessing in their union, and Mahal strike him down if he would give it to them. 

His impudent nephew rose from his knees to face him, unwavering.“Her name is Tauriel. I'm sure you remember it's because of her and her kin we're not dead.”

Thorin had not forgotten. Tauriel had healed Kili right after Bolg had driven a mace into his chest, and prior to that, she had healed him from poison inflicted by an arrow through his leg. The same elven magic had restored Thorin as well, except it had been the Elvenking’s subjects who had worked spells on him and on his other nephew, mending the near-fatal wounds they had sustained during the Battle of the Five Armies. Less than half a year had passed since then, and here they were, alive. 

Thorin felt his facial muscles relax slightly, gathering his temper. He could not allow himself to react vehemently, addled as he was. Perhaps he was partially to blame for being too lax on his youngest nephew's recklessness for as long as he had. “We owe them gratitude and recompense, not our love and legacy.”

“No, uncle. Do not reduce my affections for Tauriel to mere gratitude. You may not understand them, and I can't say I completely understand how myself, but I know what I feel, and that to me is more precious than all the gems and gold of Erebor, as is your blessing, if you should give it to us.”

Kili had a gift for using his youthful charm and crafty words to disarm those he had troubled, often sparing him from receiving any true consequence for a misdeed. But this was not a matter of pardoning pranks or mistakes, this was the Durin legacy on the line.

He shifted his attention to Tauriel, who had remained mostly silent since she and Kili had made their intentions known. She was a beautiful elf, but then, all elves were fair in their own foreign way. She was perhaps more than others, for her hair was a rich auburn, rare in her kind and revered by his own kin, and her eyes were as deep a green as the emeralds of Girion. He could see why her beauty and her generosity had ensnared his nephew with hopeless infatuation. She had proven herself a competent warrior as well, a talent which his spirited heir would find appealing. Even so, the long and troubled history between dwarves and elves could not be bridged by the incomprehensible union of two distinct races. He believed that such a union would only setback or completely undo the peace that had only begun to take root between Erebor and Mirkwood, however tenuous it may be.

He did not miss the ring encircling her pale finger, and had no doubt Kili had forged it for her. 

“When I said you could ask anything of me as a reward for your courageous acts, I did not mean for you to take my nephew.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, Kili gave me his affections out of his own free will, as I gave him mine.” She did not drop her gaze, as withering as his might have been. The she-elf was stouthearted, to be sure, but that same boldness had earned her banishment from the Woodland Realm

“With or without your blessing, uncle, Tauriel and I belong to each other.”

The implications of his words crashed onto him like an avalanche from the highest peak. “You have given in to your desires?”

If the subject were an innocuous one, Kili's mortified expression might have been amusing “No... We haven't consummated our love, if that is what you mean.”

Then there was still a chance. He could reason with him yet, Thorin thought as he lied to himself.

“Where would you go if you do wed? To Mirkwood? The Elvenking would not sanction your union any more than I will. You will find no place that would accept a... an abnormality such as yours.”

“My intention is not to leave, uncle” Kili said, “I’m only asking that you at least accept our decision, if not approve of it.”

“So you intend to keep an elf here, in Erebor? I don’t think the lady would like that anymore than I would. Elves do not do well inside mountains.” said Thorin, casting Tauriel a look of admonition. 

“I do not wish to stay anywhere I am not welcome,” was her response. She did better in keeping herself poised than his nephew. 

“Uncle-”

“Your brother knows doesn’t he?” The thought dawned on him. “I should have known.”

He should have known all along. He had heard whispers about a supposed fondness between his nephew and the elf who had saved him that went beyond amicable terms, but he had thought them merely rumors invented by men intended to distract him as King. After all, even the slightest display of cordiality between an elf and a dwarf would be considered an anomaly, and could be easily be exaggerated. There were those who still blamed him and his company for rekindling Smaug's wrath, and would invent foul rumors to defame his legacy. But in truth, he begrudgingly admitted, it was because he been a short-sighted fool.

“It was not a secret for Fili to reveal,” Kili said. 

Thorin remained still for a moment, his hand clenching around the arc of a chair, feeling sharply betrayed by another person he loved yet again. “You belong here, you belong with us, with your brother.”

“Do not use him as leverage,” Kili said, sounding as nettled as Thorin felt that he would assume he was using Fili as such.

“I’m reminding you of what you will lose should you decide to unite yourself with the elf- with Tauriel,” he added, deciding he did owe her that much respect for her role in saving Kili’s life, even if she was now threatening to undo it. “ I cannot force myself to sanction your marriage anymore than I can force you to choose otherwise.”

“So the choice is, stay here and renounce her, or leave with her and renounce my inheritance?”

Thorin nodded, knowing the ultimatum was severe but necessary to preserve his kingdom. He once told Fili, when Thorin had no choice but to leave a wounded Kili behind in Laketown and Fili insisted on staying with him, that he could not risk the fate of the quest for one dwarf, even for one of his one kin. The same principle applied to this situation. He would not risk losing the respect and prosperity of his dominion for one wayward nephew, no matter how much it pained both parties to come to this conclusion. If Thorin did give into Kili’s whims, the elves and men would think the dwarves, and particularly those of the royal line, to be overstepping their boundaries by marrying one of the immortal. 

If the prince of Erebor took an elf as his wife, how long ere another of theirs took more and it became a trend? And hadn’t the ginger she-elf been a guard on duty during their imprisonment? Did the princeling seduce or bribe an impressionable young elf into helping them escape? If so, these dwarves were not to be trusted, for who knew what other cunning they had up their beards. Accusations such as these were what Thorin loathed outsiders may come to believe. Thorin knew that the elves would never consider mortals, especially dwarfs, their equal or worthy of their affections, regardless of diplomatic relations. Moreover, his own subjects would lose respect for him as King of Erebor if he sanctioned a marriage between their prince and an elf, and allowed for Tauriel to stay in the mountain. She had saved Kili, yes, and for that he was grateful, but he and his kin could not pretend to dismiss what she was. 

A weight seemed to have pressed down onto his nephew, for his shoulders dropped and his face lost its hopeful glow. “If that's your decree, then I will go this very night.”

“Then I have no more to say to you except that you have forsaken all we have accomplished. You have forsaken your own heritage.”

Kili’s jaw clenched, as if grinding down whatever feelings were going through him at the moment. “Farewell, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.” The derision in his tone was not subtle as he spoke those last words. He was angry. He was hurt. 

Thorin turned his back to them as they exited his study, knowing he had last youngest nephew, who was more like a son to him than the boy realized. 

 

“You still can go back to him,” said Tauriel, her tone revealing a hint of desperation. “Apologize, say you were not within reason. A life of exile... I do not want that for you, and neither do you. We will have our chance to be together, in time.” He knew she spoke out of interest for him, not for lack of wanting to be with him. They had considered the likelihood of being denied, and banishment was a possibility they had not ignored. And yet, he had clung on to hope that his uncle, if not give them his blessing, would at least begrudgingly accept that they could not be apart. Exile would be an extreme measure, even for his uncle, he believed, but life seemed to gravitate to the worse possible outcome.

He took a pause from packing his belongings and took her hands, placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Amrâlimê” he spoke the word in reverence. “You yourself told me that love and duty are not to be compromised, nor are they isolated from one another. That is why you cannot return to Mirkwood any more than I can stay here. I may be a dwarf, but I don't value gold over love. You are my treasure.”

Tauriel smiled at him, and it pleased him to see the same light he felt for her in her eyes.

Kili had believed that Thorin had learned and cherished the lesson Bilbo Baggins had unknowingly bestowed upon him, the lesson of finding friendship and loyalty in the unlikeliest of people. He was abject in finding his faith in his uncle had been for naught.

“You dwarves are truly stubborn,” She said, lowering her face so that the tip of her nose brushed his. She kissed him, and he thought he would lose himself in that kiss when there was a knock at the door.

As one recognizes the footsteps of someone so familiar to them, Kili recognized the knock as his brother's.

“Come in,” said Kili, bracing himself to face his brother.

Fili stepped in, carrying a diffident expression. He must have seen their flushed faces, for he immediately averted his gaze, where it stopped on the knapsack on the bed. “So it's true. You're leaving. I was afraid it'd come to this.”

“It's not permanent, at least... not entirely. It depends on if our Great King Under the Mountain finally loosens his crown and gets full circulation back into his head,” he said.

His brother arched a perfectly blond eyebrow. “You cannot expect for him to change his view by simply running away.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Fi? Wait for him to come to his senses? How long will that take? Am I supposed to in the meantime go on pretending that titles and gold mean more to me than love and honor?”

“I thought love and honor would be reason for you stay. For your family. What would mother say?”

“We are going to find that out.”

Fili started, his mouth dropping in incredulity. “You're going to Ered Luin? With...” He made a nod in her direction, the word elf kept in his tongue. He pretended the implications didn't bother him. He had too much to be upset at already.

“Among other places, yes. And why not? I think mother would like Tauriel,” he said, sounding more confident of the prospect than he felt.

Fili fixed his eyes at Tauriel, and Kili did not miss the accusatory look he shot her. He was angry with her, he knew. For Fili, she was the reason for this mess, for taking him away from his elder brother. It was unfair. This was not Tauriel's fault. The look was soon gone and replaced with something else, something like regret.

“Not you too, brother. Do not be angry with her. You are not uncle. Besides, you are to be king. Thorin doesn't need me, he needs you.”

Fili sighed in exasperation. “You are no less important to him.”

He was not sure what else to say. After an awkward pause, Fili added. “I don’t know if I can do this alone, Ki. You’ve never… We’ve never been apart for much long except in... in private matters.” At that, a ghost of a smirk dusted across his mouth. Kili did not have to guess what he was thinking about. Back in the Ered Luin, Fili was much more popular and experienced with the ladies than he was. Not that Kili had minded. None had ever roused and intrigued him even a hundredth as much as Tauriel did. He at first questioned if he was defective for harboring physical and emotional desire for an elf, but stopped when he discerned there was nothing wrong with what he felt for her. It was everyone else who was misguided in their belief that what he and Tauriel had was wrong. 

“You’ll do fine without me. All I ever did was get us in trouble, anyway. I still am doing it now.”

Fili frowned. “He’s furious isn’t he? At me too, probably.”

“Most likely, but he wouldn’t do anything to you. You’re the only direct descendant now. You can do no wrong.” The bitterness in his tone came out unexpectedly, but not for his brother. When he saw Fili’s hurt expression, he quickly nullified his statement. “What I mean is, you’ll be a great king, and that’s regardless if I stay here or not.”

“Don’t leave things as they are. We don’t have eternity to make amends with our loved ones.”

The statement seemed directed at Tauriel, and again Kili was miffed that she was being the recipient of undeserved resentment. 

“I know, and that’s why what limited time I have left in this life will be spent with her, not in trying to convince others that our love is pure.”

Tauriel had been staring intently at the talisman Kili had given her at the shore in Long Lake, repeatedly turning the stone over in hand as if it held the answers they were all seeking. She looked up at him, unsmiling but with a softness in her features that told him she believed in what he spoke. 

Fili exhaled, resigned. “Fine. There really is no changing your mind. I suppose that’s nothing new. Just try not to get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best. I love you, Fi.” He hugged him, kissing his cheek, a gesture he had not done since they were mere boys. “When we have a home, you’re welcome to visit us. Who knows? You might even be an uncle by then.”

What sounded like a squeak emitted from Fili’s throat, making Kili chuckle. 

From over Kili’s shoulders, Fili addressed Tauriel, their eyes meeting in mutual uncertainty. “Take care of him.”

She nodded. “That I can promise you.”

Abruptly, Fili chortled. “I don't know what I'm worried about. You've rescued him from certain death more times than I can recall.”

Kili cuffed him in the head, hard but affectionately.

They were on their way out when Fili paused.

“I forgot to mention,” said Fili, opening the door to reveal they were not alone. Minus Thorin, all of the original company of dwarves were present, carrying a mixture of expressions on each of other distinctive faces.

“We heard you were leaving, lad,” said Balin, the eldest and wisest of the company. A sad smile was upon his kind face.

“Are you here to convince me to stay?” He did not mean for the words to sound harsh.

Dwalin, the older man's impetuous brother, answered him. “That was supposed to be Fili's job. We figured if he couldn't get through to yer wee brain, then none of us had no chance to either. And by the looks of it, he didn't,” Dwalin said, giving Fili an admonishing look.

“We're here to escort you. We'll take you through the less busy route,” added Bofur, speaking to both he and Tauriel. He was smiling, as he ever was, melancholy tinging its corners. It occurred to him that they meant to be their guards, should anyone give them any trouble.

On sturdy corridors made of stone and gold and rock, twelve dwarves and an elf-maiden made their way to the door that had before been hidden until Bilbo's cleverness solved the riddle and allowed them entry.

He trusted his kinsmen to rebuild the ruin Smaug had wrought in their kingdom, and already the transformation could be seen, but there was still much to do before it was fully inhabitable again. In the meantime, Thorin had insisted that his sister stay in the Blue Mountains until Erebor was restored to its full splendor. It would be his gift to her.

In truth, Kili did not feel so much that he was leaving home as he had the day he left the Blue Mountains and his mother. She was going to be furious, he knew, but also relieved to see him return, that was unless he got himself killed, which he would not allow himself to happen (and neither would Tauriel). He made them both a promise, and so far he had managed to keep it. 

They drew the attention of some of the dwarves scuttling about in their tasks, eliciting stares or unkindly whispers that were quieted whenever Dwalin shot them a murderous glare. Even sweet young Ori gave them a frown to have them mind their own business. Others were too engaged in their toils to notice them, or rarer still, were too polite to openly show interest. Nobody else but the company knew of his exile, but with an elf in their company and his bow and belongings in a knapsack, they took guesses of what her presence might mean.

Kili was beginning to feel like lancing someone with an arrow when he felt Tauriel's hand slip into his, and he looked up at her and saw her give him a side-glance and smile, as if she was reading his thoughts. There was no doubt he had made the right choice. If they had to leave their homes and could not find another, then he would make one for them. What kind of dwarf would he be if he could not craft something of value for someone he loved?

They all lingered at the threshold, Kili saying his goodbyes to each of the dwarves he had journeyed with, bestowing hugs and even kisses to those who wouldn’t mind being kissed (Ori, Balin, and Fili being the only ones who wouldn’t), while Tauriel stood silently aside out of respect for their camaraderie. The memory of Bilbo Baggins bidding them a heartfelt farewell came back to him, and he wondered if this is how he had felt. He must have had a mixture of relief and sadness and anticipation for returning to his comfortable hole in the ground. In a way, Kili was also going home, but where that was was his to discover. He hugged his brother goodbye once more, and with his elf-maiden, descended the winding steps of the Lonely Mountain.

 

The sun had not completely sunk by the time they reach the gates to Dale, where two guards stood watch. They recognized Tauriel as their unofficial captain of the guard of Dale, a position she took to keep herself busy and useful in the aftermath of the fires. Kili was no stranger to them either. They remembered him from his sojourn in Laketown prior to the reclamation of Erebor, as well as his visits from Erebor to assist in the reconstruction of Dale. His motives were not entirely diplomatic, as it was rumored that he and their captain were courting one another, however much discretion they tried to keep.

The watch let them pass without any resistance.

Bard's residence was up a cliff looking out into the River Running, where the former master of Dale, Girion, an ancestor of Bard's, had resided before Smaug obliterated him and most of the once-glittering city. They took many narrow passageways and flights of stairs to get to it, yet again drawing unwanted attention from residents, a few of whom still held a bit of a grudge on the Durin heirs for disrupting the dragon and leading him to set fire on their home and loved ones. Smaug would have eventually done it anyway, and many believed they were better off now under the rule and wealth of Bard then they had been with Master Double Chin, as some called him. Like Erebor and the new chapter of Laketown, Dale was still under repair, and remained only a shadow of its once former glory. 

Tauriel stayed in a room in the east of the building, a show of Bard’s appreciation to Tauriel for her role in getting his children to safety. 

“Aren't we going to greet Bard?” Kili asked as she drew out the key to the room.

Tauriel shook her head. “Best leave it for tomorrow. He is ever busy, and as the hours go by he gets more and more weary. I have learned that it's best to leave him be by the time evening comes around. This responsibility is new to him, and has cost him much unrest.”

“I guess you're right.”

Her room was modest yet comfortable, and it had been spared much of the damage because of its location. She lit two sconces on either side of the doorway, then lit a lamp on the bedside table. Very few other furnishing she owned, only a bed and a table and a chest to keep the few thing she had acquired. She did not want to build too much of a life here, she had known right away that her stay would only be temporary. She did feel sorry that she'd soon be trading a bed for the ground, but she was not sorry it would be with Kili.

“Should I uh-” Kili shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Should I give you some privacy? To change, or whatever.”

His bashfulness was endearing, and yet she was not much less so herself. In the five months leading up to their betrothal and decision to announce their intentions to Thorin, she and Kili had only once discussed what being intimate in their respective cultures meant, and learned that his kin did not regard coupling with the same commitment as her own kin did. While he had been stunned with the knowledge, he had not seemed daunted. He had even offered her a coy yet impish smirk and said, “If that’s all it takes to marry you, I’ll be happy to do it right now.” Of course, his statement had earned him a playful swat on the arm, but she was glad he hadn’t been discouraged in continuing his secretive courtship with her.

Neither Tauriel nor Kili wanted to make a spectacle of their union, so they agreed to eschew frivolous banquets and festivities and instead have a quiet ceremony, with only the stars and moon as their witnesses. She and Kili had known that if need be, they were prepared to forego formalities and consummate their love without further validation. 

She was glad for the dim glow of the lamps, or he may have seen a blush creep up to her face. “I will go into the wash room. I have to clean up.” 

She took her nightgown and left Kili alone to change. She hadn't realized how warm she'd been until she dabbed her face and neck with a wet cloth, finding relief as it cooled her. Slipping the nightshirt over her head, she realized this would be the first time Kili had seen her in something other than her usual fighting garb. Tauriel did not wear gowns or dresses except on very special occasions, and the celebrations she'd wear them for were not customary here. The folk were still grieving over their lost friends and family and too busy repairing both their hearts and the city to engage in such trifles.

When Tauriel stepped out, she saw the Kili was only in his trousers, tugging the sleeves of a nightshirt up his arms. He paused when he saw her, his arms still bound in the sleeves. She could see the apple in his throat bob as he gawked at her. He abandoned the nightshirt on the bed, seeing that it was pointless to put it on now she'd already seen him half-naked.

“Ah, you look... Ah. Very beautiful. I mean, you always do, but this is different. It makes you look...”

She chuckled nervously. “It's just a nightgown.”

“Ethereal,” he finished. “You truly are starlight.”

His back stiffened as she padded towards him, her heart thundering so loud in her ears she wondered if he could hear it. He regarded her with wide eyes as she lowered herself onto the bed, sitting at the edge and beckoned him to sit next to her.

The soft glow of the light cast on his features, making him look, to her wonderment, slightly elvish. Tauriel was not blind to see that Kili was handsome, even in Mirkwood forest when she had first seen him, she had thought, to her dismay, that if he hadn't been so small and hairy and dirty, he could almost be good-looking. She believed something may have been wrong with her to be attracted to a dwarf, that she had been sheltered for far too long. But no, it was not simply his looks that she came to appreciate. 

“I'm sorry if I'm... If I'm disappointing.” He looked down at his hands, self-consciously, as if misinterpreting her awe of him.

She reached out and cupped his face with her hand. “You are beautiful.”

Her hand traveled down to stroke the hair on his chest, for it had been inviting her the moment she had seen it bare, and she wanted to know if it was as delightfully coarse as the stubble on his chin and lip. It was coarser, but not any less satisfying. She felt a shudder go up him as her hand roamed and explored down further, pausing at his midriff, unsure if she should go much further, but not unwilling to.

“Tauriel,” he said, shakily, his voice as thick and husky and sweet as the sap from trees. He took her mouth in his, tasting her with his tongue, drowning her with a fire she felt blossoming within her center. Surprising even herself, Tauriel pulled him fervently down to him, their bodies aligning and pressed against each other. She gasped as he moved from her mouth to her jawline, and further down to her neck, his beard prickling her skin in a most rewarding way. Her hands dug into his shoulders as his lips traced their way on the curve of her shoulders and his hands tugged at the obtrusive fabric of her nightgown to reveal more skin for him to shower kisses on.

She was awash in heat and desire when he stopped, and then felt his frame shake and then understood why he was shaking when she felt dampness on her shirt.

“Forgive me, Tauriel. I- I can't.”

“There is nothing to forgive, my darling dwarf,” she said, taking him into her arms to cradle him.

He had lost much in one night. His home, his uncle, his brother. For her. He had lost them all for her.

She pet his hair affectionately with her hands, gently smoothing out the knots her fingers found.

He nuzzled her chest. “I want you. Mahal knows I do, more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. But I can't. Not like this, not here so close to...”

“I know.”

“I want to wed you proper. As proper as we can make it in our situation.”

She smiled wistfully, “I know. We will get to that, my love. For now, let's sleep.”

He did not shift from his position, nestled in the crook of her arm, finding tranquility in the warmth of one another, in being alone together. He had stopped crying, and now made content noises and he again nuzzled her in his sleep. Yes, they would have many more nights alone. And many days, or as much as he could give her. She knew her time with him was limited, and after he was gone, she would live on, but it was moments such as these that they would cherish, even the ones tinged with a little sadness. She would rather have that than live a millennia worth of lifetimes without him.


	2. A Day in Dale

Living under a rock was a dwarven custom Kili had never questioned. True, many other creatures that preferred to inhabit dark cavernous environments were those that belonged to the Darkness, such as goblins and orcs and other unpleasant beings, but dwarves were the adopted children of Ilúvatar, while the others were merely corruptions of the fallen Ainur, Morgoth. And granted, what Kili had just lightly japed as being a rock was rather a very large, very spacious formation of rocks, but Kili was beginning to feel that perhaps his kin was missing out in the artistry of the outdoor physical universe as he breathed in the crisp spring air into his lungs. 

Or perhaps it wasn't so much the outdoors that he appreciated than the vigor it brought out in a certain elf he admirably observed as she instructed a dozen men (and a woman) in combat and archery.

Kili would have preferred to set out the following day so as not to linger any further in the shadow of Erebor, but he had agreed to stay another day or two until Tauriel appointed a new and official leader to take her place as captain. The decision usually went to the master or king of a town, but Bard was far too immersed in his other responsibilities as king (or as the townsfolk took to calling him, to Bard's dismay) and so had entrusted Tauriel to choose a suitable successor.

Kili did not entirely mind, however, because he quite enjoyed serving as a surrogate co-captain, a position that he done so before in some of his biweekly visits to the town. By now, Kili knew most of the recruit's names and faces- with the exception of two new additions- and they knew his as well. 

At first the humans had been skeptical about having a dwarf in an authoritative position, and it was not because they doubted the prowess of dwarves as much as they were anxious what lessons from him would entail. Their uneasiness was soon quelled when they saw that Kili was just as adroit in combat and archery as Tauriel, and that he wasn't a brute, as some had previously believed of the Khazad race. The humans in Tauriel's command had not been born when trade between dwarves and men had been convention, and so they had little understanding of the nature of dwarves.

Tauriel already had a successor in mind, a young man named Vaemyr. Kili would have liked the man a lot more if he didn't suspect the he fancied Tauriel. To Kili's knowledge, Vaemyr had never done anything violating his bounders as her secondary, but Kili could recognize the beguiled glint in the man's eyes whenever he addressed Tauriel. 

Kili was not jealous nor worried. He had learned to overcome such pettiness, becoming nearly accustomed to the adoration mortal men showered upon Tauriel, as if she were a Valar among them. He could not blame them. He still was still amazed that such a creature could love him.

When the sun was midway to the horizon, Tauriel called the apprentices to gather about her, and announced that she and Kili were leaving Dale for an undermined but surely lengthy amount of time. The news produced reactions of discontent among the recruits, and Tauriel had to reinforce her position as superior for another moment by silencing them all with a hand and a command.

“As you all knew well, my intention was never to permanently stay in Dale. I thank you all for welcoming me into the community and accepting me as your captain, but now it is time to pass that title- officially- onto someone else. Vaemyr, will you accept the position of captain in service of Dale?”

The young man's shoulders tensed in attention, and Kili could see he looked taken aback but not at all displeased.

“It would be my honor, Captain.”

Tauriel smiled “There's no longer need to address me as such, Captain Vaemyr.”

Kili had to admit, she'd made the right choice. He assumed the role as commander with ease, and Tauriel beamed as she watched him take over the sentry and give orders in their drills.

“I'm going to miss them,” she said, and he knew that she not only spoke of the crew in Dale, but the one she had left in Mirkwood as well.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her, and decided it too intimate a gesture to display in front of their now former students. He was going to do his best to give her the happiness she deserved, by the maker, he would.

 

They stopped at a shop to buy fruit from a human vendor, who had acquired his goods from the further reaches of Rhovanion. The town had a few years to go before it became the bustling center of trade it was in its prosperous years, with only a few merchants selling what goods they could produce, hunt, or import. Dragon fire had left the land nearly infertile for several various species of plants, and it had taken elven enchantments to allow for the fructification of only the staunchest of species to begin to regrow. The trees that had been replanted were mere saplings that would not produce fruit or flowers until several springs later, and that was only with the assistance of elven magic. 

As for meat; many of the townsfolk refused to touch the waters of Long Lake and River Running, believing it cursed with Smaug's vengeful spirit, and so only a fraction of the population fished from those waters. Wild game and other large animals were mainly in the domain of the higher slopes of the mountain or in Woodland Realm, and men needed permits from either dwarven or elven king to hunt in their lands.

Bard's share of the treasure placed both Dale and Long Lake financially sound enough to rebuild, but it was in the lack of natural resources, and not in measure of precious metal and gems, that placed those respective towns in a state of urgency. 

The people of Dale were hungry, and while that was not new from their life spent in Long Lake, a harsh lesson it was for men to learn wealth would not fix all their problems. However, their hopes were renewed in the recent unit of men and dwarves who had been dispatched to bring back goods from beyond the borders of Rhonavion, and in addition to that, the elves of Mirkwood brought what offerings Thranduil would give them. The reckoning of Smaug had left much despair in its wake, and conversely, had reinforced the importance of building stronger alliances with neighbors.

Dwarves were less superstitious of the supposed Smaug's curse, and fished from where the river was born, as well as hunted what wild game they could from the mountains. Dain had also brought a great storage of food from the Iron Hills, and the majority of the food storage in the enormous pantries of The Lonely Mountain had survived Smaug's negligence.

As they held hands, they indeed were drawing a bit of attention from the town dwellers, most of whom were already familiar with their rumored and now confirmed romance. Few humans mainly regarded he and Tauriel with detached curiosity, and occasional approving smiles. A group of Iron Hills dwarves who were there as a construction crew did not hide the shock and distaste in their faces.

“So, it's true,” said a kinsman Kili dimly remembered from the grand subterranean hearths. He must have been in town on business. “The prince has lots his wits completely. Disgraceful.”

Kili ignored them, and continued to do so with any whisper or look they gave the couple, including an elf there on an errand unknown to Kili, until they passed a group of males outside a tavern, one of them who fancied himself strong and handsome, if his pose was any indication to go by, as were his words. He was noticeably inebriated.

“She wouldn't be with that small-cocked dwarf if she knew what a real man felt like,” he spoke them as deliberately loud as he could, crossing his arms as if to emphasize his muscular biceps, which Kili was certain he was doing. He was also certain he would've set loose an arrow into the chum's groin if Tauriel had not stayed his hand.

“Don't,” she said, her grip firm on his wrist. Her expression was taut as a drawn bowstring.

Kili did not care what terrible things were said about him. He would not stand for anyone maligning his lady.

“Shut up, Blanry, that's the prince. One of King Thorin's heirs.” a mate of his said with frightened tonality. He was sure the lad was more afraid of Thorin or Bard's ire than that of Kili's alone.

A flicker of worry passed in the bulky drunkard's eyes. The man was not from Laketown, most likely a relative that came from a human town outside of Rhovanion.

He persisted with inane bravado. “He doesn't look like a prince. And what sort of dwarf heir would be with an elf?”

“The kind that's taken orcs down twice your size,” Kili responded, unable to keep himself from answering. “Apologize to the lady, or I will bury a quiver through your jambags.”

“Let it be.” said Tauriel, her hand still gripping his wrist.

The man chortled. “Jambags, 'ey? Well, I've also taken orcs triple your size, with much bigger cocks and jambags, too,” he added, laughing.

His laughing died as Tauriel's knee connected with his abdomen. He fell back on his rump, writhing in agony.

His friends backed away, staring at Tauriel with a mixture of dread and respect.

She lifted her chin at them, challenging them to do anything about it. The men took off and left their friend bent on the gravel. By then a small group of people had gathered around the spectacle, and murmured among themselves as she walked towards Kili. If he still wasn't angry about the incident, he would have jumped into her arms and kissed her there in front of everyone, modesty be damned.

She bent down to his kiss forehead, and then took him once again by the hand. “Let's go.”

 

“I wasn't going to kill him,” said Kili when they were further up on the inclines that lead to Bard's home, where the population thinned.

“You were going to neuter him,” she stated dryly.

“Yeah, but would that be so bad? Might be doing other ladies a favor, y'know? Wouldn't want him to procreate. There's enough stupidity running rampant as is.”

“Perhaps, but there are and will be much worse than him. Besides, that would have been one good arrow wasted on his... jambags.” Tauriel could not help and smirk at the word. She had never heard Kili or anyone refer to that certain part of the male anatomy as such. It sounded like something out of his kinsman Dwalin's vocabulary, based on her few and short encounters she had had with the older dwarf.

Kili snorted, his smile disintegrating into a scowl “It's just... The way he spoke of you. As if you were property. I couldn't stand the way he looked at you, neither.”

“His words were of little substance to me.”

“Oh yeah? Then why'd you knee him?”

“When a mosquito gets too loud and near, best swat it before it becomes a further nuisance.” Tauriel had worried that if she hadn't shut him up herself, Kili would have gone ahead and sterilized him. While the result would not have been a loss for the human population, she would prevent bloodshed early on in their journey if she could.

He stifled what may have been a laugh. “You sure dropped him good, though.”

“I do recall your first flirtation with me was also of the raunchy sort,” she teased, not for the first time bringing up the worst pickup line ever used on an elf. She had supposed that sort of thing might have worked on mortal women, but she came to learn that no, it certainly did not. Yet, for all its crudeness, the line had been so stupid and ridiculous she imagined he could not have been serious, which his excuse had been that it was not. He had been so disarmed by her beauty, according to him, that words utterly failed him. Also, he never thought any line he'd use on her or any elf, romantic or otherwise, would ever work.

“Hey, I've apologized plenty for that. It was not that lewd. How can you compare me to that guy,” he grumbled.

Tauriel ruffled his coarse her and snickered at his indignant puffing.

Despite the small victory and satisfaction she'd felt in flooring the boorish oaf the incident had been a foretelling of the animosity they would surely encounter in other parts of Middle-Earth. Even in a place that had welcomed her as an addition to the community, there were those who regarded her relationship with Kili as abhorrent and an offense to the natural laws of Arda. 

She was not so fickle as to take the rantings of others like or worse than Blanry as truth. What Tauriel simply wanted was to be left as she and Kili were, a young couple in love, nothing more or less. She knew that would never happen, and it vexed her. It vexed her because for nearly her entire life, Tauriel had suppressed love, never allowing anyone more than a glimmer of her affections. 

Kili awakened something in her that she tried to push back once she detected it, and denied herself the truth when he pleaded her to come with him to Erebor on the shores of spread with Laketown's wreckage. And then she had despaired when she thought she lost him to death atop Ravenhill, and regretted and believed he would die without him knowing she loved him back.

But Kili didn't die. She had extended his life with her own light, and swore to never again hide her feelings from him, and Tauriel confessed to Kili that she loved him as he lay recovering in bed when she thought Kili couldn't hear her because he was unconscious. 

Afterward, when Kili awoke 3 weeks later, he found her in Dale and told her he would not lose her again and if he could please court her. And she accepted, because to be forever apart would mean for each to lose a piece of themselves. When she had issued her energy to his, they had become inextricably connected, and it was not simply from performing the ritual but also in the meaning and love carried behind it.

Love was not meant to be kept hidden.

And yet they had, for a time being. She had been reluctant to accept Kili's sudden proposal when she learned he had not sought Thorin's permission beforehand, but acquiesced when she recognized that Thorin's permission was not a guarantee, and that whatever the outcome, they would not leave each other, or they would once again relive the nightmare of love almost lost.

Everything- their love, their courtship, their betrothal, their revelation- had seemed so fast, and it was, especially in comparison to the conventional period of time elves have to court and be engaged and marry. But Kili was no elf, and this was no conventional relationship, and so they had to proceed differently. Thorin was no fool. He would have found before the year ended, and they would rather he learn of their troth before he learned of it from another source.

Her only regret was the Kili had met the same fate as she. She would change that if she could.

 

A modest but bountiful feast in honor of Tauriel and Kili's engagement, as well as departure, had surprised them upon their arrival to Bard's. Garlic and cheese pie, roasted boar, seasoned vegetables and raisin pudding were more than enough to feed six people, including Bard and his three children. 

Tauriel had grown fond of them all, and was closest to the eldest daughter, Sigrid, who was allowed only one cup of wine to celebrate the occasion. Last time Bard had allowed Sigrid to drink more than one cup on her twentieth birthday, Sigrid became too drunk and had spent the rest of the evening hurling into a bucket, followed by nursing a spiteful hangover the morning after.

Bard was less serious than usual, and that could be because he served himself several cups for the occasion, or because he was enjoying the company of friends and family, or both. As stiff as his disposition might be, there was warmth in Bard, and good, and if he hadn't those virtues he would have run off with his share of the treasure and left the populace alone to fend for themselves. Bain, his youngest and only son, was engrossed in Kili's recollection of his time in the Goblin-town as Kili did his best to not talk with his mouth full of food. Kili's improved table manners were one of several of his life alterations Tauriel had influence on.

“Ugliest King in all of Arda, he was, with a massive gut, horrid red eyes and a chin that looked like... Like, uh...”

“Like what?” Bain urged.

“Jambags,” Tauriel offered, having heard the story before but with different terminology. She figured it was a more innocent and silly alternative than, say, testicles.

Bard choked on his wine and Kili sputtered out some of his food from laughter. The young boy looked \ confused at their reactions.

“Pardon, my Lord.” A maidservant of Bard's politely interrupted as the raisin pudding was being served. “There is a messenger of the Woodland Realm who brings news for the Mistress Tauriel.”

Bard gave Tauriel a brief and considering look. Tauriel's throat was too dry to respond, so she nodded.

“Very well. Send him in. Thank you.” He turned to his children. “Sigrid, take Tilda to bed, and Bain, you follow.”

“But father! We haven't even got to the pudding yet.” Tilda, the youngest protested.

“Then bring the pudding to your room and it eat there. Go, now.” Bard said with finality. Tilda gave a disgruntled exhale while Sigrid gave Tauriel and Kili an apologetic look as she followed her sister out, Bain tailing behind.

“I will be nearby if you need me,” Bard said, giving them each a nod before withdrawing from the dining room. Only she and Kili remained. He was grim and stood as anxiously as she.

The elf who appeared Tauriel recognized as a Silvan of Mirkwood.

“Cap- Lady Tauriel,” her kinsman said, correcting himself before calling her by her formal title. “It is good to see you are well.” The Silvan cast Kili an inquisitive, if somewhat haughty glance, and then briskly returned his attention to her.

“Likewise, Radon.” Tauriel addressed the messenger by his name. Radon had never served under her, he served under direct order of Thranduil, and thus their relationship never went beyond that of formality, though he had always been cordial with her. She saw that he regarded with a little more coolness than when she had been Captain. “You have news for me?”

Radon produced a letter from a leather canvas, handing it to her. It was set with silver wax, undeniably Thranduil's seal patterned on it. Her pulse was drumming against her ribcage as she broke the seal and read the letter. She had to steady herself when she read the elegant lettering.

“Tauriel?” Asked Kili, his voice apprehensive.

She made effort to swallow so that she could again speak. “My banishment has been lifted.” More than that, Thranduil had added, Your return is requested and at once urgent.

Kili said nothing and slumped down onto the chair.

Radon shot Kili another glance, his eyes veering again to her. “I will rally your message as soon as I have it. He has instructed me to inform you that it cannot wait longer than a fortnight.”

For a moment, Tauriel did not know what to do. She had dreamed of returning, if only to visit, and now her wish was being granted. And then it hit her, and Tauriel knew what she must do. “Will you please allow us a moment of private while I discuss this with.. Kili?” She was not ashamed of her engagement to Kili, but thought it best to refrain from divulging that private bit of personal information.

The elf appeared to be displeased, but did as bid. “I will wait outside.”

“You are going,” said Kili as soon as the messenger was no longer to be seen.

Tauriel leveled down on her knees to meet his gaze. “And you're coming with.”

Kili stammered, his glum expression shifting to that of disbelief. “You cannot be serious. Last time I was at Mirkwood, my kinsman and I were thrown into prison cells.”

“Yes, and that is because you were trespassing. Have you not figured out what this means? My banishment is lifted. We are free to pass the Forest River without violating the terms of exile. Else wise we would have to go roundabout both the forest and Erebor, which will take twice as long and be likely just as dangerous. We will go to his Kingdom, as his guests, and I will hear what he has to say. By the looks of it, there are pressing matters to be discussed.”

Kili did not suppress a scoff “So he summons you only when help is needed? That is rather disingenuous.”

“I'm not going for him. I will not turn my back on Mirkwood, if there is need of help. My return was requested, not ordered.”

Kili seemed to weighing outcomes in his head. “Even so, I don't think King Thranduil will be too thrilled about offering hospitality to a dwarf who is no longer a prince, and even less when he finds out about our troth.”

“He doesn't have to like it. Besides, you were the one who reminded your uncle that Thranduil extended his aid to save your uncle and brother. There is no reason for him to refuse his hospitality to you now, especially if it means mending the wrongs he did you.” Tauriel herself was not entirely certain that Thranduil wouldn't refuse them if Kili came along, but she had to trust that the subtle yet discernible shift she had seen in Thraunduil at Ravenhill, combined with his recent actions, was a sign that he would at least not throw him-or her for that matter- into a prison cell.

Kili did not need further convincing.“You know I'm incapable of refusing you almost anything. I would follow you to the ends of Arda. If there is any danger, I won't let you face it alone.”

“Let us pray there isn't, not more than the usual, anyway.” She was thinking about the spiders that remained in the forest. Though their numbers had dwindled and they had scattered away to whatever desolate pit from whence they came, they still were a loathsome presence in a forest that was once lush and grand.

“Tauriel,” Kili called out to her before she went to give her message to Radon, who she predicted would be none too pleased that Kili would accompany her. “What if... if the king offers you your old post back? Would you accept it?”

His visage and surroundings began to blur and gleam as she answered, “I will not leave you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um....Pardon my excessive use of "jambags". I just really wanted an excuse to use that term after seeing the Hobbit appendixes and the origin of that term and laughing for a good long minute. If you don't know already, it's reference to the chariot-chase scene in BOFTA . The actual colloquial term is "yambags" but kili and Dwalin mispronounce it. And there you have it. Also, I'm not too fond of adding unnecessary romances to an already fluffy fic, but I figured someone else would eventually have a crush on Tauriel, because come on look at her. 
> 
> If you see any inaccuracies, contradictions, inconsistencies, etc. with what I write of the world of Tolkien, please feel to correct me, and I will fix it. 
> 
> Moonraykir did not Beta this chapter but I'd still like to thank her for providing me with writing tips and Tolkien lore.


	3. Afloat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read on:
> 
> 1.) I used various references for this next chapter, including different Middle-Earth maps, a Timeline/Chronology for the events of the Hobbit, a forum on boating, and of course the Hobbit movie to determine the ratio of time/distance of their travels as well as surroundings. That being said, it's still just an estimate, and I could be far-off from what it should be. But hey, I'm trying.
> 
> 2.) I made a mistake on the first chapter about Bard being alive when Smaug attacked Dale, because for some reason I thought he was (he was present for Laketown attack but not Dale attack years earlier, in case you're confused by the distinction). I went and fixed that but you don't have to go back and read it, it was just one sentence.

Three hours past midday it was, and two travelers floated in the colors of the day. To the north, the Lonely Mountain stretched on solemnly, its peak piercing the sky like a white spearhead. From that mountain is where the river they rode flowed in a steady current, moving southbound and east. The picture of the sky mirroring in the waters blurred as Kili manned the oars and stirred the river's surface in tandem to a hum that began to take form into a song.

_Beyond the reach of Erebor_  
_The youngest steers his way_  
_Traveling through trees and streams once more_  
_and to his heart obey_

_Farewell he bids to Erebor_  
_Alas, he could not stay_  
_for love and loyalty did soar_  
_to bright stars faraway_

When the last syllable drifted away, there was silence, save for the crash of wood against the water. Tauriel regarded him emphatically, her meaningful gaze making him feel increasingly self-conscious as the seconds ticked by.

“Did you write that one your own?” She asked, and he was glad to have the short but heavy stretch of silence broken.

Kili nodded. “Tis'nt very good, I know, but it's all I could come up with at the top of my head. There aren't any songs that would fit.” He was not as creative as Bilbo with versus, or as eloquent as elves, or even met up to the standards of many of his kin with songs, but he had been compelled to sing something that reflected how he felt, just as the waters reflected that which was above it, and because there were none that did, he had to create one of his own.

“You sang it beautifully,”she said, and sounded sincere.

Kili shrugged meekly. “Thanks. I would like to hear you sing instead. You are a far better singer.”

And sing she did, the Song of Beren and Lúthien, a ballad about an elf-maiden who fell in love with a man, a song she'd sung to him before and knew was his favorite of her people's songs. Her voice was sweet and filling, like honey that soothed away soreness. No songs of love between a dwarf and an elf existed, and not long ago he had appointed himself the task to write a ballad of their own, aiming to complete it by the time they pledged themselves to each other. It was like to be a mediocrity, but he nonetheless would give it a shot.

 

After dining on a simple meal of cheese and bread, courtesy of Bard, Tauriel insisted on taking over paddling duty and he had little choice but to accede. Nearly an hour later, they reached Long Lake. Tauriel steered on the west bend of the Long Lake, opposite of where the other half of Laketown's populace chose to make camp on the east bank. As they advanced, they saw the city-harbor in its first stages of construction, the site several miles down the lake further than it had previously been. 

The new Laketown was merely at the groundwork stage of its re-structuring, not yet habitable, with very few edifices partially erected. Woodwork had been swapped in favor of stonework, so that the city would no longer be as flammable as a wicker. While Dale had met a similar fate nearly a century and a half before the misfortunes of Esgaroth, its towers and structures, though crumbling and charred, had remained standing due to them being made of sturdier stuff. Dale may have had to repair the ruins of the city, but Esgaroth had to rebuild entirely from scratch, right down to the subaqueous pillars that supported the base of the harbor.

Kili did not fully comprehend why a swath of Laketown's population had chosen to remain in the fringes of the Lake, habituating the open or in makeshift tents instead of following Bard to Dale where there was concrete shelter, but he supposed that the patriotism that anchored them to their home, or what was left of it, was the same or similar one that had compelled Thorin to reclaim Erebor, even though it lay desolate and in the clutches of a great and terrible beast. 

More men than women had perished in the fires while defending their hometown, and what men remained had taken to being rather protective of the women and children. Or the opposite occurred and they became feral and hostile, for desperation and hunger brought out the worst in people. A person had a right to trial if he or she did something unjust or heinous onto others, but that was only if the townsfolk hadn't exact their own justice beforehand. There had been about a dozen reports of men raping women, of adults stealing from children, and one woman had been even caught trying to drown her child with her. The provisions sent from the three leaders of Rhovanion had been pilfered at some point, and sold for gold or for flesh, and when Bard caught wind of this, he had those responsible excommunicated or imprisoned. 

Because of the distance from the lake to the foot of the mountains, Bard's jurisdiction over Laketown was thin, especially so early on in his term, and thus the area was in need of firmer governance. Not entirely bleak, a modicum of order was beginning to be established, and in the next upcoming council meeting (which Kili would obviously not be present for) between all three leaders and their advisers, more was to be discussed and settled about how to handle the situation in Laketown and more.

Kili had been at the first council meeting, and it had been an awkward and tedious ordeal. Much was disagreed upon, especially between the elves and dwarves, naturally, and in the end they had to compromise, which only meant no parties got exactly what they wanted. Thorin had made Kili attend, it was his obligation as crowned prince, he said, and there were lessons to be learned. Kili hadn't contributed to any of the process whatsoever, and the one idea he had pitched had been immediately shot down by all three sides, even by his own uncle. He couldn't remember exactly what he'd proposed, but it had to do with inviting more elves to visit Erebor, and vise versa.

Kili had thought himself fortunate that he was the second nephew, exempt from the pressure of having to be king one day, though he would have been if death had indeed taken the other two Durin men and let him live on. Now disinherited, the position of king would fallen on Dain, not he. A shiver spiraled down his flesh, partly from the memory of how close they'd been to dying, and the chance that it still may be. Death was certain for his kind, but when that would be, one never could be sure.

Another slither of uneasiness soon curled around his frame as they neared the spot where Smaug was felled and entombed. Though the beast's fire was forever extinguished, his malice lingered like smoke from a doused pyre, rank and clinging.

“Do you feel that?” Tauriel asked, green eyes darker than usual.

“Yes,” he answered, stirred by another involuntary shutter.

“It is eerie. I now see why humans refuse to fish from its waters,” she spoke gravely.

“Up in the river by Erebor, the water is cleaner. His taint does not extend so far,” he reasoned.

“That may be true, but I don't think they are aware or believe that.”  


Kili had no answer. Many times he had pleaded Bard to encourage, more like urge, his people to fish from the river instead of go on starving. Kili had not been to the Long Lake since their stay over half a year ago, and he felt now the menacing the waters held. The accursed site may be miles away from where the river flowed, but perhaps Smaug's spirit was as infectious as gangrene, starting in a part and then spreading. But what could be done? Perhaps only until all evil was completely eradicated, could the waters be pure again.

“I would like to help them,” Tauriel said several minutes later. She was looking out towards the harbor, where several folk, many of them dwarves, industriously labored on.

“I would too, but we don't have much to offer them except our physical strength, and my uncle has seen to provide them with that, and food and drink as well,” he replied. He was not surprised that she would want to lend support. Her compassion for others was what had landed her in a position to disobey her king, and thus led to her exile, admirable but not without consequence.

The bones on Tauriel's face tensed, and he could see that she was in conflict with herself. In truth, his own conscious was not convinced with his own reassurance, and he questioned whether he was turning his back away from responsibility. He was no longer a prince, but did that mean he was entirely relieved from obligation to these people? And what could he do, if they did offer their help?

What little Kili did know of the world is that wherever they'd go, they would encounter many in hardship and despair, and even when they did help, the need of it would never end, and they could spend their entire lives trying to fix the world and leave only but a small imprint. And perhaps they should, for that was how some did spend their lives, such as Gandalf, and his actions could hardly be called trivial. The want to make a difference, even a small one, was what had driven Tauriel to save his life, and again he found himself humbled by her kind and generous heart.

For a short time, they both remained pensive, and then Tauriel spoke.“Before I left Mirkwood, I saw the world through a lens of black and white. There was evil, and there was good. Evil took form in the shape of Giant Spiders and orcs, good in the elves and others that walked in favor of Ilúvatar. But then I saw that there was much more that lays in between, and what I have seen has been heartbreaking, and it makes me want to scream because there is little I can do about it. And yet, I sometimes question if my desire is truly altruistic, or if it is simply another manifestation of self-importance inherit in my species.”

Her smile was joyless, and Kili leaned closer to her, cupping her chin with the calloused but gentle pads of his fingers. “You are not arrogant. And I don't think that of elves, not all of them, anyway. You aren't all alike, same as my own kin.”

He kissed her freckled nose, eliciting a soft laugh from her.

“I will speak to Thranduil about what I've learned from outside of Mirkwood. I doubt he doesn't already know, but I must try. We could tarry here for a few days and help in what we can, yes, but I believe the only way to truly succeed is by getting at its source. I once told Thranduil something similar, except I was talking about the Giant Spiders and destroying their nests. We will move forward.” Her voice rang determinedly, but the tension in her mouth did not completely loosen.

 

A spattering of faint stars began to shine through a backdrop of orange and blue. Beneath the deepening sky, Tauriel's visage seemed almost to glow, as if starlight itself were trapped under her skin. Her auburn hair darkened to burgundy, and the tips of her ears rose from the spill of that hair in sharp, pale points. How different she was from the dwarf lasses, he mused. Even some of the gals younger than him had more hair on their chin than he, and of stockier build, too. Tauriel on the other hand... 

Well, it was as he'd once said about lady-elves in Rivendell, they were all high cheekbones and creamy skin, only he had lied about there not being enough beard for him. He didn't mind beards on women, it wasn't that, but there was an exotic appeal in the smooth bareness of Tauriel's jaw that he found enchanting

They reached the mouth of the Forest River moments after the last light of dusk had doused into the river, wrapping the land in obsidian, the stars and moon the only visible light to them. They moored the boat onto a nearby boulder with rope and took rest for an hour. Kili re-assumed paddling duty when they set off again, deviating their course to take the the Forest River, which began in the north-west of the Grey mountains and flowed south-east. Ten miles went by before they both were too fatigued to continue on, and found a grassy area on the south bank of the river flat enough to make camp for the night. 

Although the night was cool, no fire was needed, and was unwise when potential threats were not far. The warmth of their bodies huddled against each other under a wool blanket was all the warmth they needed. Fortunately, they were both keen in senses even in sleep, else they would have to take turns keeping watch, and neither wanted the other to take on that task after a long day of physical exertion.

 

No trouble did come to them, except for that of mind. Tauriel would not have slept had she not been so fatigued the night before. Now awake and rejuvenated, her head was brimming with anxiety. Kili could sense it, because he had been trying all day to make her laugh, an ability he normally did not have to make an effort on. He was the only person to have ever made her guffaw, but now all he managed were curt, breathy laughs that were more suspirations than laughs. She should have been happy that she was being, more or less, welcomed back into her homeland. Yet, she could not shake the disquieting feeling that she would soon have to face a decision more difficult than the one she'd made when she left the Woodland Realm to follow the wayward dwarf and his friends.

“That fancy king of yours, I don't think he'd be as tolerant with me as Elrond was if I was to bathe in his fountain,” said Kili, leaning back against her legs as she steered them upstream.

“You did what?” She was sure her expression was horrified. She had been to Rivendell a few times on business, and she knew that Elrond did indeed exceed Thraunduil in patience. But Elrond's magnanimity must have been beyond all expectations. 

Kili turned to look at her, abashed. “We didn't piss in it. We really thought it was a bath. At least I did. I think some might have known and did it on purpose.”

“It appears I have more to teach you in etiquette, especially if you are to be a guest in Thranduil's Halls.”

So she gave him a brief rundown of all the do's and don'ts of being a guest in His Majesty's realm, and Tauriel could only hope his precious dwarf head had absorbed all she had said to him or else she'd need to be near him at all times so that he didn't offend his host.

They traveled for several more miles, passing through the long marshes and taking the south branch of the river where it divulged and encircled the Elvenking's Halls, at which point they reached a fall, the water henceforth moving in a torrent. They secured the boat to a dock where other boats were moored, leaving it until it was again needed by them, assuming it wouldn't be stolen by the time they did. On steady feet they hiked a bedrock that sloped upwards and into the forest, the area becoming denser with trees and vegetation the deeper it went.

“It will be okay,” Kili told her in an attempt to comfort her. She could tell he was not entirely certain himself, and she mentally chided herself for letting her worry show through.

She would conform to propriety and tact later, she thought, as she indulged herself one last time and pulled him in for an embrace, and in the momentum he almost lost his footing. He made an “umf” as his face was buried in her chest, an inevitable but not unfavorable outcome of his height compared to hers. When he shifted to a less suffocating position, he sighed contently against her, circling her waist with his strong arms, and they remained that way for a short while before setting out again. She did not know when they'd have another chance to entertain their affections. Elves were conservative with showing fondness openly, and she doubted Thranduil would allow them to share a room together regardless if they were wed, if he indeed allowed them to stay at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made that song up, and yes it's not very good. It's Kili's he's poetically inclined but not the best at it, much like me.
> 
> I thought I had written a decent-sized chapter until I realized it was fairly short. But I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer and I was eager to publish it. 
> 
> So I ordered a new computer screen because I've been writing everything on a public computer, which could either be beneficial or to my detriment int his story. It has given me more time to think when I write manually, and has allowed me to let the words flow into paper, whereas in typing you go back and fix every mistake because it's easier. So we'll see how that goes once I get my computer running again.
> 
> Feel free to contribute in any way! Ideas, suggestions, etc. I will take all into consideration and give credit. I have a rough outline on where this story is going but it's always prone to change or can be molded to fit in something extra so long as it's relevant to the plot. 
> 
> <3


	4. Daughter of Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Managed to squeeze in a bit more fluff. Because I'm Kiliel trash. 
> 
> Also, drunk Kili and a few snooty elves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still waiting for my pc to be fixed, thus the month-long delay. Thanks for your patience.

The Woodland Realm was an oasis within a vastness of murk and rotting bark, remaining the only part of the forest unsullied and untouched by the shadow that had branded it the name Taur-nu-fuin. It was beauty within ugliness, and it sang with the noiseless footfall of insecticide critters, and the sough of wind fanning through leaves, and the sibilant froth of a rapids furlong ahead, and other hums only the children of the forest could discern.

Tauriel was born into this realm many centuries after the Greenwood had been renamed, and since her kind mainly bred in times of peace, her birth, an existence that came to be after the woods's corruption, had been unique and celebrated, and it was the last elven birth in the forest to date. What's more, her name, Tauriel, was given to her in honor of those circumstances, and it proved to be a fitting one.

She did not love the warped side of the forest, but she understood it. From early on in her age, a good portion of her time had been spent navigating through the infected part of the woods, fighting beasts, keeping watch, learning as much about their enemies as she could. Her knowledge and affinity with the land, combined with her natural leadership and combat skills, had granted her the well-deserved role as Captain of the Guard.

“You're more at ease,” said Kili as he shuffled behind her, his steps thunderous and awkward compared to that of the wood-elves.

Encouraged by the woodland's music and the way it seemed to open its arms to her, and the fact that they continued unmolested by neither beast nor elf, Tauriel's anxiety had indeed quelled, though she remained dubious of Thranduil's intentions.

Tauriel smiled at him over her shoulder. “The forest welcomes me back.”

She heard him breathe in slowly, testing the air. “I think I understand. I don't feel the malady that I did the first time I stepped into the forest's shadow. It feels... cleaner.”

“Thranduil goes to great lengths to keep the darkness at bay from his kingdom.” 

Now and then Tauriel would recognize the faintest brush of foliage or bite of a twig as made by scouts formerly under her command. They made their presence known to her, but kept their distance, their vigilance sweeping about the perimeter of the realm and thus not kept solely on the pair.

In addition to the Guard, wards were set about the perimeter as an extra layer of defense. Protective as he was of his kingdom, Thranduil's caution had also made him excessively mistrusting of outsiders as well as a recluse, and he had seen to it that his subjects had kept shut within the realm's borders as well.

For as long as Tauriel's curiosity began to take root, she had wanted to venture outside of the forest, to learn of a world beyond beech trees and damp soil, to see faces marred with unconcealed scars and the furrows of age. But, aside from the far and few visits of envoys to Rivendell, it had been absolutely prohibited to leave, and it had taken the lure and friendly conference of one bold dwarf to give her the push to break from a place she came to consider both a haven and a cage. A haven, because all the things she loved and appreciated were in this safeguarded sphere. A cage, because she believed there was more to be cherished outside of it.

Kili had proved that the world outside was worth engaging in and preserving, and any creature that kept a promise as precious the one he did for his mother was a life worth saving, and a life worth loving.

“And the Dark One's retreat from Dol Goldur has loosened his hold on the forest, for now.” She added, remembering that very important detail. “I fear he will return with a vengeance.”

“Let that not be the case,” said Kili, his voice breathy from walking, as well as from a sense of foreboding.

For hours they trekked on, scarcely stopping but for a meal break and to stretch the kinks in Kili's back stiffened by the heavy cargo. Against his protests, Tauriel relieved him of the weight and took the cargo onto her back.

The dimness of the forest darkened as dusk set in, and then gave way to a night that swallowed them into a near-impenetrable black, save for the pinprick of stars that shined through the dense lacework of the beeches' crowns. Here, in the zest of the land and the home of her kin, the stars flashed ever brighter, and if she was to hone in and empty her senses to their light, she would be lifted to them. She thought of how beautiful it would be to bring Kili with her, where they could dance among that which she loved equal to him, surrounded by nothing but light as pure as their bond. Then, remembering that they had tried before and it did not work, an unbidden sadness diffused her fantasy, though she clung on to the hope that perhaps if they tried again in hallowed ground, that it might work.

Her reverie was further cut into at the sound of a thud and a curse uttered in Khuzdul.

“It's darker than Moria's mines in here. I can scarce see passed my nose.” Kili had stubbed his foot, presumably on an upraised root. Consumed by her thoughts, she had forgotten to warn him of the tripping hazard. The darkness would lame even the surest foot to a floundering gait, unless of course you were an elf and familiar with the land.

“We are not far. Another two hours, more or less.”

“Hopefully less. I'm not thrilled about venturing into the Elvenking's Halls again, but I'd rather be underground than stumbling blindly in the forest,” Kili said, the annoyance in his voice plain but a relief to her ears. He sounded more like his cheeky self as he was now than when he had been in forcing himself to be unfazed and cheerful earlier on in their venture.

Tauriel's jocund smirk was hidden in the shadows but not in her voice. “Would you like me to carry you?”

He gave her the snort she wanted.“Ha. Well, if I am to suffer one indignity over the other, it would be in the arms of a pretty lass.”

They continued without any further minor collisions and without her needing to carry her short husband-to-be.

When Tauriel was certain no sharp, prying ears nor eyes were within proximity, she paused and turned to him. “Kili.”

Kili almost did collide with her then, stopping a two steps short from her chest. He politely backed away. “Yes?”

“I do not know what sort of reception we'll have. It's possible that news of your disinheritance has reached Thranduil, and if that's the case, you might met with less hostility than you did when trespassing, but also with less cordiality were you a royal guest and envoy.”

“I feel like I'm walking into a lion's den,” Kili replied blandly.

“Thranduil is... mistrustful, and set in his ways, but he is not cruel. Besides, it is a much wiser course to meet him than either turn back or continue on in his territory. Prince or not, you are still Thorin's blood, and Thraunduil would not again want to sour relations by holding a potential ally's nephew as a prisoner. But I do not carry the same privilege. He could decide to apprehend me for trespassing without first having a conference with him. Thranduil is the ruler of nearly all of Mirkwood, and the Woodland Realm is the capital city. No one may enter or leave without his consent.”

What she had told Kili at Bard's residence was true. Thranduil did not order her to return, but now that they were in his territory, even if it was just along the border, to pass through without answering his call could be taken as a slight and they may ordered to leave and forced take the more dangerous route through the mountains. Or worse, she could be held in contempt. Her banishment was lifted, but Thrandul could retract that lift at will. 

Furthermore, she wanted to know why Thranduil had lifted her banishment, and to ignore his request might mean ignoring the realm as a whole.

Kili grasped this bind. “Understood. I will do whatever it takes to see us safely through, even if it means getting sneered at by a bunch of haughty elves,” he said , keeping his tone light in spite of the subject matter. He was not the callow dwarf she met some months ago, heedless to the gravity of certain situations and willing to do anything to impress his elders, but still he did his best to maintain a positive attitude for the sake of those he cared about.

He took her hands into his, and gave them a tug as he lifted himself to reach closer to her height. His face, tan that it was and framed by a tousle of dark hair and shadows, was barely visible, but still she knew where to find his lips. All thoughts of Thranduil and exile and everything else were dispelled as their lips met and they were entangled in a sweet exchange of wordless language, one that needed no translation and held a meaning as deep and moving as hymns. But then his hands released her hair and he was again under her chin and her mouth touched nothing but the air and it was over too soon. She tried not to wring her lips in frustration as he heard him chuckle.

“I never thought I could stir such a reaction from an elf.” She didn't need keen eyes to see the smug play on his lips as he looked up at her.

“That was cruel.” she said, though she was far from angry. Maybe a little embarrassed for looking like a fish sucking at the air.

“That was for good luck. They say that if one kisses a dwarrow before facing uncertainty, adversity, or a gamble, the odds will be in favor of that person.” His hands moved to her waist, and if there had been any elves nearby, she would have had to remove them from where they brazenly took settlement. It was good that no others had been around for their kiss, neither.

“I have never heard of such a myth. That was made up entirely by you,” she said, doubting his claim.

“Yes, and still, you're glad that I did. That hug would not suffice.” She had to admit, he was not wrong.

“Should you have given me that line when we were on the shores of the Lake, I might have kissed you then before the battle.” Rarely did either one of them bring up the battle, especially the fight on Ravenhill, but in this context, it was easier to make mention of ssomething it.

Kili's voice grew quieter, almost dreamy. “As much as I yearned to do so, I didn't t think it appropriate at the time. And besides, this was enough,” he said, tapping in the nook between her breasts where she kept his first and cherished gift to her. “It worked didn't it?”

She held her palm over chest, and softly said, “Yes, it did.”

 

They reached the foot of the Elf-path around the time Tauriel had predicted. The road led up to a cobbled stone bridge that stretched over the River and affixed the southern region of the woods to the north, where the Elvenking's Halls loomed. White pillars like giant's bones stood solidly in front of large stone doors secured by elf-magic, and near those pillars, obscured by the shade, were half a dozen sentinels, made small by their surroundings but no less stately than the face of the cavern palace.

A chamberlain by the name of Arvellon greeted them at the main entrance (which served the dual function of being the “only”exit, though Kili and his company had thoroughly proved that to be a false claim), standing apart from the rest of the watch.

“Welcome back, Tauriel, Daughter of Mirkwood, and Kili, Prince of Erebor and Decedent of Durin. I am here on behalf of Our King. He wishes for you to rest for the night. You will have audience with him on the morrow.”

Tauriel did not correct him. Now was not a suitable time to reveal that Kili no longer held the title of prince. Better to tell Thranduil directly. She nodded her respect and said, “Doilla le.”

Kili followed her example, and said nothing.

Arvellon regarded Kili with a prudent expression, keeping his tone polite. “The Prince will lodge in a chamber reserved for Thranduil's royal guests, inside the Halls.” He did not wait for Kili's response, directing is eyes upward to Tauriel, who was at an even level of height with him. “You may return to your formal dwelling, and are free to roam the forest as you did prior to your absence, but Thranduil desires that you should refrain from entering the palace until you are summoned. You have his word that you and the prince are under his protection.”

Tauriel sensed no falsehood in his words. Distrustful and at times selfish the wood-elves were, but they were not deceitful.

“If you will please follow me,” said Arvellon, gesturing to Kili.

Kili turned to Tauriel, wary in every line of his frame. She gave him a nod of encouragement, and said to him “Tenna' tul're,” which fetched a disapproving look or two from the otherwise stoic sentinels. The words were common enough not to be bold, but it was the fond tone in which she spoke them that lent them a more meaningful edge.

Kili smiled wanly at her, and let himself be lead off by Arvellon and all but two of the sentinels, who remained to keep watch.

They pointedly ignored her, and she took their hint and flew to the trees.

 

The last time Kili had walked the intersecting pathways inside Thranduil's palace, he'd been too disgruntled and tired and still a bit delirious from the enchantment of the forest to be fully observant of the architecture. Ori had told him that these Halls were modeled after Menegroth, another underground citadel that had been built with the aid of Belegost Dwarves. Other dwarvish hands had lent their skill and strength to sculpt the Halls of Thanduil, and Kili could see their influence in the engineering. Ironically, the Elvenking's palace resembled the dwarves' own lodgings far more than it resembled the elvish realm of Rivendell, though it was less spacious than the other underground kingdoms Kili had seen, including the Goblin-Town.The aesthetic, however, was distinctly elvish, all curves and elegant lines and organic design.

His room was just as elvish, with a high convex roof and furnishing that was designed for one twice his height. The bed, for example, was an ovular shape and could probably fit two of him, or preferably him and Tauriel, and the chair was just high enough for him to sit on without needing to hop on it. The room did boast a hearth and bathtub, and he knew from Tauriel's description of her home that she did not have either herself.

The only gems that he had seen since entering the palace were in his room, and they were inlaid to the walls to represent the eyes of birds and stags and other noble woodland creatures. Leaves, vines, and flowers were recurring motifs in all of the art and architecture of his chamber, curling around on the bedpost and other pieces of furniture as if plants had sprouted from the floor.

Kili stripped down to his trousers, and laid on the bed, which felt like a cloud about to sink him in, not a particularly comfortable feeling. He did not think sleep would come easily to him, despite being tired as he was. The lack of Tauriel's physical presence did nothing to make him relax. They'd only shared three nights together, and already he'd become attached and accustomed to the feel of Tauriel beside him; her soft breathing, the curve of her back against him, or his back against her, how well the fit together despite being mismatched in body, how soft she was-

He sprung up from the bed, cursing.

Fortunately, the elves had never been stingy with supplying food and drink to their guests, or even to their prisoners, as he so vividly and not so fondly remembered. A bowl of fresh fruit and cheese and a flagon of wine was on an oaken table, and he ate the food and washed that down with a heady red vintage that was better- and stronger- than most anything Kili had ever consumed.

This hospitality that he was being provided was above anything Kili had expected, and was rather bewildering, and also did not fully pacify his distrust. He supposed it had more to do with the ingrained suspicion dwarves harbored for elves than for any substantial reason, but then again, this was the same King who had spurned those that needed his aid. Kili wondered if the hospitality would last when Thranduil learned of his exile.

Absently, he took another pull of wine.

Tauriel had promised him that she would not leave him, and he similarly had sworn he would follow her wherever she went, but if Tauriel was offered another chance to live among her people, to inhabit trees and bask in magic and the light of the stars, he didn't know if he'd have the heart to take her away from that a second time.

They would just have to wait to hear what Thranduil wanted from Tauriel, because Kili was sure that self-interest was a motive of Thranduil in inviting Tauriel back.

I don't like him. He is gaudy and selfish, thought Kili as he drank some more.

A guard was posted outside his room, and it almost did feel like he was confined to a cell, albeit a considerably more comfortable and lavish one. He was not permitted to leave without being followed by that guard, and only was allowed to do so for using the privy, and Kili was not sure whether to be humiliated or amused at the thought of a pompous elf posted outside the privy listening to the hiss and patter of his golden relief. Kili laughed under his breath.

Well, since he wasn't going anywhere and since he wasn't going to get sleep until he was satisfyingly imbibed with the soporific effects of the wine, which he wasn't far from achieving because this wine was highly potent, and my, was he feeling it, he looked around for something to do.

The hearth was unlit and the firewood was un-charred, and so he took one of the logs and brought it with him to sit on the ground and recline his back on the bedpost. He took out one of his daggers, the one that Fili had given him on his name day, and began to carve, starting with the head. Then, he worked on a pointy ear that curved around that head like a petal, then the other ear, conjuring the image of the longest and pointiest and loveliest pair of ears he'd ever seen on an elf.

When he was finished with his work, Kili studied it, and frowned. “Not even a master craftsman could create a likeness that would do you justice.”

A painter might come close, but even they would lack the skill to capture the dream come true that she was.

Vertiginous currents of poesy swirled in his mind as he stretched languidly on the rug and assembled doting versus he would partly forget by morning. Staring hazily at the statuette, he wished it was the flesh-and-blood Tauriel instead of a wooden, miniature version of her. A “dwarf” version of her. He laughed. He sighed.

Twice she'd given him the gift of life, and all he'd given her in return was crafted steel and a future full of uncertainty. And his love. Would that be enough?

He was snoring before he could speculate on that further.

 

As one would expect of a wood-elf, Tauriel's house was in a tree. It was not an open platform like the flets of Lothlorein, or an ample, lofty lodging of white stone like in Imladris. It was more of a hut, constructed from recycled bark and nestled within the pale limbs of a beech tree.

Someone had cleaned it for her, else wise it would have been overrun with leaves and grime and webs formed by innocuous spiders. She did see that some of her books had been nibbled on by caterpillars, and her furniture bitten here and there by termites, but she was happy that all her things were still there, and more importantly, that her mother's lock of hair and father's dagger remained safely tucked away in a locked small chest. She hadn't had time to take those with her when she left Mirkwood.

Sunrise was beaming through the openings of her abode when a servant of Thranduil's arrived with her breakfast. The elf-maid was older than Tauriel, as everyone in the realm was, but had a humble bearing that was atypical of wood-elves, which was probably why Thranduil liked her as a palace maid. She looked at Tauriel with demure curiosity, and only tilted her head and curtsied when Tauriel expressed her thanks.

With her breakfast, there was a note. It was from Thranduil, and it read:

_Tauriel,_

_Please be at the White Room when the hour is ten. The Durin Prince will be present at this meeting._

_King Thranduil_

A concise and informal note it was, and Tauriel noted the likewise informal location they were to meet. The Thranduil she'd known thrived in the kingly ceremony of receiving guests in the grand, aerial Throne Room of his forefathers, exhibiting his status and wealth with an unnecessarily pompous flare and bearing.

The last time Tauriel had any interaction with the stunning king was right after she healed Kili on the cold, snowy bloodstained precipice of her nightmares. Her tears had frozen on her face and Kili's vital flame was slowly rekindling, and Thranduil approached them with an expression that was at once mystified and touched, as if he was witnessing an event as singular and charming as a fox cradling a hound.

“It is real,” he said, amazed at the sight before him. Then he said no more and turned and left, his hair still perfect and gown unruffled despite just having fought a deadly battle.

That singular act of love had moved him, but it gave her little clue on if he approved or disapproved of that love, and if that should matter. She supposed it didn't, and still she found herself foolishly hoping that at least one of her own kin would.

She ate the rest of her meal, porridge sweetened with honey and berries, and went to the streams so that she could bathe.

Few others started their morning routine with a wash, and Tauriel was usually one of those who ended their day immersed in ablutions, but she hadn't bathed since the night before leaving Dale and so a bath was in order. Besides, Thranduil would probably wrinkle his nose at her if she showed up unwashed.

A shocked silence fell on those who were cleansing themselves in the mildly cool waters as they caught her walking down the grassy slope to the edge of the banks. The silence was soon replaced by whispers murmured in Sindarin, all knowing they'd be heard as she undressed.

“She has returned.”

“The traitor.”

“”Hush, she is a good-elf.”

“Her dwarf prince is in the palace, I hear.”

“I do not believe those tales of her and the dwarf. She has more sense than that.”

“Well met,” said Tauriel, stepping into the shallow end of the stream. She refused to give them any indication that their gossip affected her. She had expected it.

Several nods and greetings were granted in return, some more stiffly than others. There were kindly smiles that greeted her, and one of them was especially warm. The smile was worn by a maiden called Rhovangwen. She waved to Tauriel to meet her at the other end of the river, further down the current.

Tauriel swam to her friend, who floated near the River, her deep brown hair splayed out like tendrils.

“It is good to see you again, mellon,” Rhovangwen greeted her. Like the rest, she was Silvan, a lower elf who served Thranduil as a soldier, and she was a dear friend of Tauriel's. She was one of the people Tauriel had been most sorry to leave. A friend since her childhood, Rhovangwen was one of the younger elves, though she was still centuries older than Tauriel.

“It is good to see you as well,” returned Tauriel.

“Your departure stirred much controversy,” Rhovangwen said, free of condescension.

“I see my return has as well,” Tauriel said, returning the gazes of some of the elves staring quizzically at her.

“You will not be met unkindly by everyone. You still have friends here, Tauriel. At least half of us believe that what you did was admirable, while others are simply baffled. Few are upset. We hardly know anything of the matter. Thranduil has kept silent. What we've been told by others regarding the circumstances surrounding your exile sound more like tales than truths.” Tauriel could see in Rhovangwen's face a hundred questions, pushing against her tongue, too polite to voice them in a place so public and open.

Tauriel was grateful for her friend's prudence. “I will tell you the story in a later time, when we are alone.”

Rhovangwen gave her an agreeable smile, though the curiosity still lingered.

Seeing the glistening naked bodies of the wood-elves was a familiar sight, but now she found herself comparing them to Kili. The elves were physically flawless, their bodies supple and tall and taut with lean muscle, and that perfection now seemed almost unvaried in contrast to those of dwarves and men.

She thought of Kili, how strange yet alluring the sight of him bare-chested had been, and the reaction that his kisses and touch had stirred.

“Tauriel?” Rhovangwen observed her peculiarly.

“Yes?” Tauriel responded, feeling herself grow warm, embarrassed from being caught musing over something so worldly, though her friend wouldn't be aware of exactly what it was that caused that lapse of attention in Tauriel.

With her meeting with Thranduil imminent, Tauriel's bath was a short one, and she left feeling cleaner in both body and in mind with knowing that she could still count Rhovangwen among her friends.

She thought of her other friend, Legolas, as she did almost on the daily, and wondered where he could be. Rhovangwen said no one knew except Thranduil and several of his confidants. His son was understandably a delicate subject, and no one dared mention him nearby or in the presence of their king.

Out of everyone, it was her Greenleaf she missed the most. Half a year was but a flutter of a moth's wing to elves, but having parted ways without a proper goodbye, and not knowing when and if they would ever again meet, time became irrelevant, and she felt his absence as heavy as a felled tree.

What if they did meet again? Their relationship would never again be like the one they had before she recognized that the love Legolas felt for her was not of the same nature as the one she had for him.

A thought seized her. Two princes had fallen in love with her, and self-imposed exile had been the price. Was loving her a curse?

She drove the bleak and absurd notion from her mind.

Kili's second gift to her, a ring that he had lovingly made himself and marked their troth, was where she left it in her jewelry box, and she slipped it on her index finger. It felt right on her, like a piece falling into place. Runes of love and strength and wisdom were etched on the inside of its rim, adding to the courage she had within her, symbolically if not in a literal sense. Thranduil would surely take note of her ring, as Thorin had, but Thranduil was not Thorin and his reaction might be different. Their opinions and feelings ultimately did not alter that Tauriel was sworn to Kili. Whatever else this life had prepared for them, that would not change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back and re-reading my last two un-beta'd chapters, I saw all the errors I made and tried not to repeat them in this chapter, mainly in refraining from dumping an excess of background information and using terminology/phrases inappropriate to the world and time period. That was another reason for my delay. I hit a huge wall of anxiety in feeling like I fail in everything I write, but I had to remind myself that this is supposed to be helping that post-bofta angst, not adding to it. 
> 
> I'll probably go back and nitpick and correct little things from the other chapters, but you don't need to go back to re-read it, it's mainly grammar and technical stuff. 
> 
> Oh, one more thing before I shut up. On the second chapter, I wrote something about Kili/Tauriel wither away if they were apart from each other, but that's super melodramatic and I didn't literally mean they would die from being separated. I meant it more as they would lose a piece of themselves because they are connected in more ways than one, especially after that transfer of energy. I can't see Tauriel actually fading away like Arwen, though I think a part of her would feel a void if Kili were gone, which is eventually bound to happen him being mortal and all but shhh, let's not talk about that right now. So, I went back and re-wrote that sentence.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, thank you for making it through to the end. Your feedback is appreciated.


End file.
